Saying Farewell to Fried Chicken
by Snitwick
Summary: Anko and Temari's relationship revolves around cheap bars, greasy food and a great physical connection. When Anko meets someone who opens an entire new world full of conversation and good food she is determined to make Temari accept her decision to end


Disclaimer: Naruto is not mine.

* * *

Anko still remembered her last attempt to break up with Temari. She hadn't wanted to seem too eager to break up with her in case the girl had a violent reaction to such a proposal, so she had brought up the subject of their relationship as casually as she could.

As it turned out, she needn't have skirted around the issue. Temari was no fool.

As Anko had stuttered and struggled with how to string her sentences together, Temari read everything that Anko was trying to say in her body language; her averted eyes, sweaty palms and nervous hand-wringing said more than enough for Temari to piece together the picture.

In an answer to her stuttering, Temari had simply shifted her legs a fraction of an inch, hitching her skirt further up her hips. Then she had taken Anko's hand and guided it between her legs, while pulling Anko down by the collar of her mesh shirt and kissing her.

Anko had been defeated before she had even had time to protest.

* * *

Something had changed since the last time they had had sex. Anko had met someone new. Someone with long, dark hair and warm eyes; someone with whom she could have a decent conversation over a real meal in a well-lit, respectable restaurant.

With Temari, their 'dates' always involved making out in a cheap, plastic booth in a shady bar. Sometimes they would eat fried chicken from greasy, plastic trays. Other times, they would simply get drunk. Either way, they always ended up collapsing in a tangle of limbs and disheveled clothing on the floor of Anko's darkened apartment.

Anko loved having real conversations in real restaurants with real food. She loved them enough to feel that it was worth breaking it off with Temari--for good.

That was why when Temari had passed her in the street a few days ago and slipped her a note with a date and a time and a lipstick kiss, she had read it and shoved it into her pocket, promising herself that she would meet Temari, but only to say good-bye to the girl. She knew it was silly, but she felt that she owed Temari a proper good-bye, even if their relationship had never had a proper anything else.

* * *

At the dim-lit bar, in their cheap plastic booth, Anko's nerves failed her. She tried to convince herself that she didn't want Temari to think that she had so little respect for her feelings that she would say good-bye in a bar that couldn't even afford proper napkins for its patrons, but only part of Anko was convinced.

Left without a topic for conversation for fear that if she opened her mouth, she would blurt it all out at once, Anko ate in silence and drank enough to calm her nerves, but not enough to get sloshed. She wanted desperately to get drunk, but she had enough common sense to wait until after she had sent Temari home to do that. To Anko's surprise, Temari seemed content with the silence. She even kept her hands off Anko all evening--something that both relieved Anko and worried her immensely.

When the two of them had finished their meal, Anko picked up the tab. She felt it was the least she could do for Temari before she announced her decision to break up with her. After paying the bill, they left.

Outside, Anko followed Temari as they wove their way through the alleys that led to her apartment. The route was second nature; they had walked it together so many times that Anko had lost count. It seemed impossible to think that tonight would be the last time they walked it together.

When they arrived at her apartment, Anko opened the door and entered. She flipped on the lights and sighed when only one bulb lit up fully. The other flickered irregularly. Anko made a mental note to replace it. She felt bad that she would have to tell Temari good-bye beneath such poor lighting, but she knew that she didn't have any other choice. If she didn't break it off now, she would never do it.

Before Anko could open her mouth, however, Temari dropped her coat over a chair and kicked off her shoes. She stretched out on Anko's couch, flashing her gorgeous legs in front of Anko.

Anko opened her mouth, not quite sure where to begin, but positive that she had to be quick about it. If she wasn't, Temari would pull her back into her seductive trap like she had the last time Anko had tried to break up.

"I--" she started.

"--want to break up," Temari finished for her.

Anko stared at Temari. "You knew?"

"Why do you think I kept my hands off your body during dinner?" asked Temari, so casually that Anko might have thought she was talking about her laundry if she hadn't know better.

"But--"

"But what?" asked Temari, raising an eyebrow. "You want out, don't you?"

"Yes," admitted Anko, "But how did you know?"

"It doesn't matter," said Temari, disinterestedly. "It's fine."

But it wasn't fine; Anko had spent the entire evening steeling herself to do whatever she had to in order to make Temari understand that she wanted to break up. Instead of feeling ecstatic, Anko was worried about Temari.

"Are you sure?"

"It's not like this body is going to go to waste without you," said Temari, frankly.

Anko suddenly wished that both her lights needed to be replaced, if only so that Temari wouldn't see her blushing now. "I didn't..."

"Don't worry about it."

Temari stood up, grabbed her coat and slipped into her sandals. As she passed Anko on her way toward the door, she kissed the other woman and copped a feel beneath Anko's coat.

"Thanks for dinner," said Temari, winking.

Anko watched helplessly as Temari walked out of her life as easily as she had sidled into it. She knew she had been one-upped once again, but to her surprise she found that she didn't care anymore.

In the morning, Anko would get up and take a shower. She might even fix herself breakfast. Then she would call the dark-haired woman she had met and ask her out on a proper date. If she was lucky, the woman would say yes.

But that was tomorrow and today was today. And for today, Anko just wanted to be alone.

_Fin._


End file.
